


A Moment of Quiet Reflection or Do You Believe in Magic?

by wabbitseason



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-18
Updated: 2004-01-18
Packaged: 2019-01-05 10:53:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12188595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wabbitseason/pseuds/wabbitseason
Summary: While a storm brews outside, Giles receives a message from beyond and the Slayerettes advance to Boardwalk. Set after "I Only Have Eyes for You" but before "Becoming".





	A Moment of Quiet Reflection or Do You Believe in Magic?

**Author's Note:**

> This is yet another attempt to answer an old fanfiction challenge, requiring the writer to choose something from each column and create their own scenario. Only my weird mind could find the connections between a hangover, an impending thunderstorm, and a get-out-of-jail free card.
> 
> On a more personal note, the author wants it noted in the records that this particular fic has been rescued several times from computer oblivion due to my computer... er... creativity. It has been dubbed the "Cursed Fic", although the author has yet to find any traces of Molloch the Corrupter on her hard drive. One hopes this will be the last version.
> 
> And this does *not* mean that I've given up my membership of Not Dead Dammit! Club. It just means I can accept alternate universes.

For the first time in weeks, the Hellmouth had been remarkably quiet. The vampires had kept their normal hunting schedule and no new ghosts or demons had shown up since the last incidents at the school. No dead students had shown up in either of the locker rooms, leaving even Principal Snyder to comment on the "liveliness" of the student population.

The Watcher and his Slayer used their free time wisely. Buffy stepped up her battle readiness and patrols. Giles used his time to study some of his colleagues' old diaries and notes on previous encounters. Judging from these accounts, things with Angelus would be coming to a nasty conclusion very shortly. They needed to be ready for that moment.

At his home, Rupert Giles prepared for another long night of study by turning on the tap and filling the tea kettle to boil some water for his Earl Grey tea. After placing the kettle on the oven, he turned on the flame and waited for the water to boil.

It almost seemed like a ritual now. He would make his tea and unwind for an hour before diving into his musty old tomes of Watcher lore and history.

One tired part of Giles yearned for something stronger, but he resolutely resisted that concept. He remembered the after-effects of his last "Long Weekend" binge not long after Jenny's death.

The hangover lasted for most of the next day. Ordinarily, with the small amount of students using the library, no one would have cared if the librarian seemed more tired than normal. But Willow noticed when Giles shelved an old spellbook under classical poetry. After listening to her stern lecture, Giles resolved to cut back on his alcoholic intake, if only to avoid Willow's unexpected displays of temper. As she had quite reasonably pointed out, Principal Snyder could be the next person to notice his habits and that could make things even messier.

Besides, Giles needed his concentration for this task. Every scrap of information could help Buffy and one miscue could mean her death. And this time, there might be no one to bring her back.

The kettle whistled and Giles returned to his task of making his tea, pouring the water and dropping in the Earl Grey tea bag. He waited for the tea to seep through, causing the water to darken. Finally after many moments, he pulled out the tea bag and stirred in some cream.

Carrying his tea, Giles found his favorite reading chair with his evening reading assignment neatly stacked on the side table. He moved the books and put his teacup and saucer on the table. Then he leaned over to turn on the small radio.

As part of his ritual, he had fallen into listening to the radio before consulting his books. But for once, he needed more upbeat music to lull him into research mode.

The box crackled with life. Giles turned the dial past the public radio and classical music stations until he recognized another familiar voice. "And this is 'Sunny Dave' Marsh for Oldies 105, playing your favorites songs of the sixties and seventies throughout this long spring night. Right now, I'm zooming through our request hour so get your calls in for your favorite tunes."

The librarian chuckled thinking of what Buffy and her friends assumed about his musical choices. They probably guessed he'd prefer a Mozart string quartet to a Jimi Hendrix guitar riff. A slow smile drifted across his features. He had always taught the children that "looks can be deceiving". Perhaps they should have looked a little closer to home.

Truth be told, he had himself partly to blame for their perceptions about his old-fashioned and anachronistic personality. But the librarian had his own personal reasons for maintaining the "Mr. Giles" persona. He hadn't lied to Ethan at Halloween. This was who he was. This was who he had to be. Just as Ripper had to be.

"Turning towards the local weather," Sunny Dave said, "a line of severe thunderstorms continue to threaten the entire region. The warnings will remain in effect until 11pm tonight." The radio broadcaster said more jovially. "So you heard it from the Weatherman, you guys and gals, stay inside where it's safe and sound." He added brightly. "And to help those cooped up at home, I'm offering an extra long request hour. If there's something you want to hear, give me a call."

The weather announcement startled Giles out of his reverie enough to rise from his chair to look through one of his small windows. From his position, he could just see some of the dark storm clouds gathering. Though it had been a quiet week, Buffy planned an early sweep before gathering with her friends at her house. Giles hoped she had made it home safely before the storms started.

Giles chuckled. He was a real piece of work, all worried over his Slayer like a father waiting up after his daughter's first date. Buffy had proved many times she could fight vampires without his needless worrying. His protectiveness of Buffy would get one of them hurt someday.

Sunny Dave announced over the radio, "First up on the request line, I have Matthew in Fondren requesting Jefferson Airplane's 'Somebody to Love'."

And the skies opened up.

###

At the Summers house, the living room had seen better days. Furniture had been moved aside and other piles had been carelessly placed in random places throughout the room.

The Slayer and her friends sat on the floor contemplating their next moves. Everyone but Cordelia and Willow seemed depressed by their proceedings.

Xander Harris glanced down at the game board. Along his path, Cordelia and Willow had set up their respective empires to snare the unwary.

"C'mon, Xander, we don't have all day," Buffy said, sitting cross-legged.

"Hey, you can't rush the master," Xander said.

"Well, the master will be meeting his maker if he doesn't move," Cordelia said.

Xander offered up a silent prayer and blew on the pair of mismatched six-sided dice. He juggled them inside his hand and then with a practiced flick of the wrist, he rolled them against the overturned box top. The dice bounced around on the cardboard, finally settling on a four and a two.

He marked off the six places with his game piece until he arrived on the house-laden Marvin Gardens.

"Oh no!" Xander groaned at his misfortune.

Cordelia clapped her hands with triumph. "YES!" She consulted her considerable holdings and held out her hand, smiling sweetly. "Pay up, Harris! That will be $126 for landing on *my* property."

"I don't believe this," Xander said. He dutifully counted out the money from his own meager accounts and handed it over to Cordelia. "I'm being cleaned out in Monopoly by my own girlfriend."

"Don't look at me, friend," Oz said, glaring at Willow, "my girlfriend swindled me out of two railroads."

The computer hacker smiled innocently, sitting in front of the Monopoly bank. Willow had quietly amassed all of the railroads and public utilities, along with several other properties. That combination had nearly broken the banks of Oz and Buffy.

"I hope Giles didn't mind you cutting your patrol short," Willow said, deftly turning the subject away from Monopoly strategy.

"Everything has been pretty quiet since the ghosts disappeared," Buffy said. "Besides, the weather predicted a thunderstorm tonight. I didn't want to caught in it." She added. "Trust me, you really don't want to fight a vampire in the rain."

As if to punctuate her assessment, a thunderclap outside announced the arrival of the storm.

"We'll take your word for it," Oz said.

"Hope the power stays on," Buffy said, eyeing the lights. "We had problems during that last big one that blew through Sunnydale."

"Nothing like a power outage to bring people closer." Cordelia glared at Xander's suggestion. Then Xander handed Buffy the dice. "Your turn, Slayer."

Buffy grimaced and tossed the dice lightly on the box top. She rolled a ten, angling her game piece past Cordelia's murderer's row of properties. She landed on the orange Chance question mark.

"Cool, maybe I'll win something," Buffy said hopefully, picking up her card.

Cordelia winced. "The last time I won second prize in a beauty contest. I mean really -- second?"

"Buffy?" Willow said. Her friend's face had turned bleak. "You look like you've..."

"Go to jail," Buffy read aloud from the Chance card. "Go directly to jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200." Accepting her ignominious fate, Buffy placed her game piece within the small square marked "jail" on the Monopoly board. "Bummer."

"Ouch, doing time," Xander said. "Way to go, Summers."

Buffy said. "Snyder would probably laugh at the irony of the situation."

"Relax, Buffy," Oz said, "if they jailed every student who didn't fit Principal Snyder's ideal of a model student, there wouldn't be a student population in Sunnydale."

"More effective than the Hellmouth," Willow admitted.

"Besides," Cordelia said, "those prison fashions would totally wash you out with that complexion. All those stripes and mousey grays..." All the Slayerettes turned towards her and she said defensively. "Well, someone needs some perspective around here."

"As I see it," Buffy said decisively, "I only have one choice."

"Actually, you have four," Willow said.

Buffy asked blankly. "Four?"

"You can either roll doubles on your next turn..." Willow suggested.

"The way my luck has been running all night?" Buffy said, "I'll be sitting in the slammer until I turn blue."

Willow said, "You can pay the $50 fine."

"With what earnings?" Buffy stared at her dwindling reserves. "And then I'll round the turn and Cordelia will wipe me out with her hotel chain."

Cordelia grinned. She was enjoying this moment. For once, Buffy was not the all-powerful one.

"You could use a get out of jail free card," Oz offered hopefully.

Buffy said, "I don't have one."

Xander and Oz looked sympathetic to Buffy's plight. Even Cordelia had not achieved that stroke of good fortune in the game.

Willow grinned mischievously, reaching for a card hidden amongst her holdings. "But I do."

Buffy said, "Willow Rosenberg, you are a thing of evil."

"I know," Willow said knowingly. "How much is it worth to you?"

"Willow!" Buffy said. "I'm your Slayer-sized bud, how could you?"

The computer hacker said, "Yeah, but right now, you're the friend who has St. Charles Place and Pennsylvania Avenue."

Buffy looked down at her two of her few remaining properties. She had had to exchange two other properties in order to pay off her earlier debt to Cordelia.

"Don't do it, Buffy," Cordelia said.

Willow glared at her rival. "It's her decision."

"Ladies!" Oz said. Then he conceded. "Okay, girls... maybe." When the two female high school students shot him withering looks, he reminded them. "It's just a game."

Cordelia tossed her hair back. "Boys, they just don't understand."

"Maybe someday," Willow agreed.

Their shared expressions both imagined the day men understood women would be sometime around the Twelfth of Never.

"I wonder what Giles does on quiet nights like this," Oz said. "It must be lonely without..."

Buffy said, interrupting him. "He probably does what he always does." Then she finished mimicking Giles' British accent badly. "I much prefer to stay home with a good book and a cup of Bovril."

The group laughed but somehow the tension hadn't disappeared.

"So, Buffy," Willow said, "about that deal we were making..."

Buffy sighed. Who would have thought that shy quiet Willow would be such a killer negotiator in Monopoly? She only hoped Giles was enjoying his "quiet night" with his musty old books.

###

Giles had turned his attention to murder. He had specifically begun reading the diary of one Watcher named Hezekiah Wyndercombe in 1641, whose Slayer had been brutally slain by a mob. Loyal to Oliver Cromwell, the crowd had accused and judged young Margaret O' Shaughnessy for the mysterious deaths of five guards. All five guards had been killed by a vampire stylizing himself as the Master.

The Watcher had been surprised to learn more about the Master's history before he arrived in the Colonies. They had researched the vampire when Buffy had faced him before, but Giles hadn't had the time to read the histories more closely. Even the Black Chronicles were missing key entries throughout its murky pages, hampering future Watchers' efforts and possibly endangering their Slayers by the sin of omission.

He closed the book wearily and took off his glasses. Idly he listened for sounds of the storm overhead. Several hours had passed since the radio had announced its impending arrival and true to form, the thunder and lightning roared with all the sound and fury to do Shakespeare justice.

Giles heard the quiet murmur of the radio and realized with some surprise he had left it on while he read. He must have turned down the volume; he could barely hear it over the storm.

Not that he needed a crystal ball to know what they would play. Invariably the requestors still asked for the same group of Beatles or Motown favorites, although there was always a few surprises. He had laughed outright at the young man who requested Simon and Garfunkel's "Cecilia" to explain his affection for his lady love.

The librarian turned up the volume on the small radio, losing interest in vampires and death for the rest of the evening. These were the nights he missed Jenny the most. Some nights when he was tired, Giles could almost hear the tinkle of Jenny's laughter, teasing him. He wished he could have reached her that night in the library, just to see her again one more time.

Sunny Dave said. "Well, I hope you have enjoyed our extra-long request hours tonight. The weatherman claims that the storm is passed by us for the rest of the night, but you can never believe those guys, can you?" The deejay continued. "Here's a special request that goes out from Jenny to her 'sexy fuddy duddy in Sunnydale'."

Giles sat bolt upright in his chair and listened more intently. He had tried to contact Jenny's ghost at the school, but had no success. It couldn't be...

"And now," Sunny Dave said, "here's the Loving Spoonful 'Do You Believe in Magic?'". The music cued up after he had signed off, leaving a stunned Giles to listen and wonder.

A single tear welled up in his eyes. So maybe she *was* listening after all.

Giles didn't even wait until the song had finished, though his heart wanted the moment to continue. He found his phone and dialed the radio station. They had mentioned their phone number countless times throughout the night, so he almost had the number memorized.

When someone answered, he explained impatiently what he needed to know. The operator said they'd check. After a few minutes, they came back and said the request had been sent to their address... by email. Did he want to place a request? Dave was almost finished for the night, but maybe they could squeeze one more in before the next deejay came online.

Giles considered this idea. Then he smiled and gave his response. He hoped she really *was* listening.

"And for our last request for the night," Sunny Dave said, "here's Fleetwood Mac's 'You Make Lovin' Fun', requested by England for his Gypsy". The music cued up after he had signed off, leaving Giles to only hope.

The chorus explained his response to her question:

"I never did believe in the ways of magic,  
But I'm beginning to wonder why..."

"That's the trouble with you, Rupert," a soft voice said from the other side of the room. "You never believed. All of those years training to be a Watcher and you never understood its power."

Giles whirled around and saw Jenny Calendar seated on his couch. Dressed in a sweater and long skirt, Jenny looked the same as when Giles left her in the computer lab that fatal night. She was so beautiful. Far from pale filmy ghost he remembered from his Oxford days, Jenny glowed with a luminosity untouched by death.

"Jenny..."

"Jana." She corrected him. The Watcher looked at her oddly. "My real name is Jana, Rupert." She added. "Of the Kalderash clan of Romany in... well, what does it matter in the end?"

"Everything," Giles said rushing to her side. "It matters to me. But how?" He tousled her hair. The dark strands shimmered even in the dimly lit room.

"Why do you always have to question everything, Rupert?" Jenny said softly. "Just accept it." She leaned down to kiss him on the lips. The embrace lasted for a long time. Even the storm had settled into a gentle rain, pattering in the background, like a hidden track on a record.

"And that's all for us at the Request Hour," the deejay finished, "I'm Sunny Dave for Oldies 105. Wherever you are, I hope you are safe and dry and with somebody you love."

Jenny leaned over and turned off the radio. She smiled. "For at least one night, we are."

###

The next morning Rupert Giles came into the school library to find the Slayer sitting at the long study table. How long had she been waiting?

"Good morning," Giles said. Then he covered his mouth to stifle a yawn.

Buffy stood up from the table to stand in front of Giles, arms crossed in a disapproving stance.

"You're late," Buffy said accusingly.

"I... er, um... overslept," Giles admitted. For the first time since Jenny's death, he had slept quite soundly, so much so that he missed his alarm. Or some mischievous poltergeist turned it off. He added truthfully. "It won't happen again."

"Make sure it doesn't," Buffy said.

"How was your patrol?" Giles asked, escaping long enough to put away his briefcase and overcoat in his office.

"All quiet on the hellmouth front," Buffy said. "No vampires, demons, or ghosts."

Giles said under his breath. "Don't be too sure of that."

"What?" Buffy called.

"Nothing, nothing," Giles said, hastily changing the subject. "Did you miss the storm?"

"Yes, thank god, I was safely inside long before the sound and light show started," Buffy assured him, "only to lose to Willow and Cordelia in a cutthroat game of Monopoly."

Giles said frowning. "Monopoly?"

"Simple piece of advice for you, Giles," Buffy said, taking up her schoolbooks. "Do not pass go, do not collect $200, and don't ever negotiate with Willow. Her resolve face will be your doom."

Giles said. "If you say so." He had a hard time picturing Willow Rosenberg as a ruthless banker, but no trouble remembering her temper.

"Are you all right, Giles?" Buffy asked finally. "You seem preoccupied this morning. Has something happen? Have you discovered another dire prophecy?"

"No, no, everything's fine, really," Giles said. "I had a quiet relaxing night at home with a good book and some old music to pass the time."

Buffy rolled her eyes. She didn't even want to contemplate Giles' idea of "real" music.

"Now, don't you have classes to attend this morning?" Giles said.

Buffy said, "Right, I'll leave you to your books."

Giles used that excuse to disappear into the stacks to conduct his morning rounds, lightly humming to himself. Buffy turned to leave, half-listening to the tune. She expected to hear some classical nonsense, then stopped cold when she recognized the song from her mother's old record collection. Somehow she never pegged Rupert Giles, stuffy British librarian par excellence, to be caught humming The Eagles' "Hotel California".

All in all, Buffy considered, it must have been some quiet night.

THE END


End file.
